


Theory and Practice

by butterflymind



Category: Stellar Firma (Podcast)
Genre: David/Trexel (sort of), Gen, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21837961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflymind/pseuds/butterflymind
Summary: Most of the events related could be blamed on two books and a coffee table.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. The Coffee Table

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masterofmidgets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterofmidgets/gifts).



The Stella Firma clone management manual, 7th Edition, has an entire section devoted to clone-designer relationships. It covers comprehensively the many aspects of working side by side with your clone assistant and maintaining a productive working environment, without developing any of the more unsavoury interactions that had been known to occur in Stella Firma’s very distant and no longer relevant past.

It was a shame therefore that the clone management manual was also seven inches thick, which was precisely the distance from the end of one of the legs of Trexel Geistman’s coffee table to the floor. The fate of the final seven inches of the leg were a mystery shrouded in the mists of the Cosmic Lounge, but fortunately the table was propped on a book of just the right size, its cover permanently indented with a ring where the shortened leg rested on it. 

Treated with much more care and attention was the book that had been left on the table. Unlike the clone manual, its cover was not indented with the footprint of a wooden leg, although a reasonable argument could be made that such a decoration could only have improved it. It was very pink. Also, slightly furry in an uncomfortable way that brought to mind the sort of carpet one often wakes up on. The very existence of printed material in Stella Firma was a luxury only allowed to the highest elites, and therefore it seemed a terrible waste that this book’s title was ‘Wooing, A Historical and Cultural Perspective’. There was a bookmark in it, like the fuse of ticking bomb.

In many ways it could be said that if not for that coffee table, and many other factors embedded in the basic personality of Trexel Geistman, none of the following would ever have happened.


	2. Stage One: Theory

**_Excerpt From Stella Firma Clone Management Manual 7th Edition_ **

** Chapter 12: You and Your Bio-facsimile **

**12.1 Building a healthy bio-facsimile relationship**

**12.1.1 This is not a spontaneous office: Building consistency.**  
The importance of a cordial, but not friendly relationship with your bio-facsimile assistant, and how to build consistency into your own behaviour in order to achieve maximum productivity in your clone.

* * *

**_Excerpt from Wooing: A Historical and Cultural Perspective_ **

** Chapter 12: The first great romance **

**12.1 Making a move**

**12.1.1 Presents and how to give them**  
The traditional presents before your first date, and how to make them extra special. Learn from cultural archives the techniques that gave the great romantic heroes of the twentieth century their success!


	3. Stage One: Practice

By now, David 7 had learnt that when a series of uneven clangs emanated from the ventilation ducts in the middle of a work day, it was usually best to steer clear of the area directly underneath the access panel and await the oncoming disaster. So he was sitting next to I.M.O.G.E.N’s terminal, lit softly by the light of the screensaver (current and eternal theme, Stella Firma’s greatest planetary design countdown) when Trexel dropped out of the access hatch. 

The first unusual thing was that he was dressed all in black. The second was that the black in question appeared to resemble a clone jumpsuit, albeit extensively tailored and shaped. The third thing, which was less unusual than the first two, was that he did not turn on the lights. The fourth was how high he jumped when David said hello.  
  
“What are you doing?” Was David’s actual opening gambit. Trexel, who appeared to have been trying to feel his way blindly to the far wall while maintaining an aura of suave mystery, startled and immediately knocked over a chair.  
  
“David! What are you doing here?”  
  
“I only live in this room Trexel.”  
  
“Ah. Yes.” Trexel was still standing with his back to the wall, pressed tightly as if he was trying to meld with it.”Well, why are you awake then? Isn’t it your…” he waved a vague hand towards David and the clone chair. “Recharging time?”  
  
“I’m not a robot Trexel.” David said with the exaggerated patience that was the only way of navigating conversations like this. “And it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. It’s the middle of the work day.”  
  
“Is it?” Trexel sounded genuinely shocked. “I knew I shouldn’t have had that twelfth drink.” He found his way over to David, and handed him a square box. “Well, you may as well have these anyway.”  
  
“What are they?” David asked suspiciously, turning the box over in his hands. It was a glossy purple, a ribbon printed on one side. There was a picture of a man in silhouette attached to it. David had a horrible feeling it might be Trexel.  
  
“They’re chocolates David! They’re nice!”  
  
“Am I supposed to have them?” David wondered out loud. Trexel looked surprised, as if this was a thought that had never crossed his mind. David, unsurprised, put the box down and turned to the terminal. “Well, now you’re here, we can get to work on the brief.” There was a clang and David, with weary resignation, turned back just in time to catch Trexel’s feet disappearing back up into the access hatch.


	4. Stage Two: Theory

**_Excerpt from Stella Firma Clone Management Manual 7th Edition_ **

** Chapter 12: You and Your Bio-facsimile **

**12.1 Building a healthy bio-facsimile relationship**

**12.1.2 What a useful bio-facsimile you are: Delivering appropriate praise.**  
Strategies for encouraging appropriate and productive behaviour in your clone, without causing unwanted attachment to develop in your clone assistant.

* * *

**_Excerpt from Wooing: A Historical and Cultural Perspective_ **

** Chapter 12: The first great romance **

**12.1 Making a move**

**12.1.2 Going for dinner**  
That all important first dinner date. How to make an entrance and what to bring with you. All the best ideas from history for creating a romantic atmosphere, and what to say to make a real connection! 


	5. Stage Two: Practice

“Well, that’s that.” Trexel said loudly as the submission screen faded and was replaced by the Stella Firma logo. “I’m starving.”  
  
“Good for you?” David said uncertainly. By now, Trexel was usually well into whatever dramatic exit he had selected for that day. But he hadn’t even glanced at the door, or the air vents. Instead, he produced from behind the chair the same strange suitcase he had come in with twenty minutes ago. He had placed it behind the chair with a kind of deliberate subterfuge that could not be ignored, and was now removing it in a similar fashion.  
  
“What’s in the case Trexel?”  
  
“Oh, this case?” The casualness of his tone was so affected it was making David’s teeth ache.  
  
“Obviously that case.”  
  
“Oh nothing.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Well, unless you count this.” Trexel pressed a button on the side of the case with a flourish. In his defence, it was for once a flourish that was deserved. The case sprung open, revealing a red and white striped cloth which unfurled itself. There were cutlery and plates, and once the cloth was flat the top of the case delivered a pot and spoons. With a final snap the case produced two candles in a silver candlestick, which settled in the centre of the cloth, and then the case dropped to one side and rattled gently, jangling the cutlery. David stared, eyes wide with shock.  
  
“Wha…?” He finally managed.  
  
“Impressive isn’t it.” Trexel grinned. “Had the boys in fabrication knock it up for me. Instant picnic, suitable for all occasions.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“We never really talk David. Have you noticed that? If there’s one thing we never get a chance to do, it’s really communicate.”  
  
“That’s because you’re always shouting.”  
  
“Am I though, am I really? Or is it this unreasonable workload we’re given?”  
  
“It wouldn’t be unreasonable if you were here to do it.”  
  
“Dissatisfaction detected, security alerted.” I.M.O.G.E.N chimed in cheerfully.  
  
“Nope, we’re both very satisfied. No unsatisfied people here.”  
  
“That’s as may be.” Trexel carried on blithely ignoring any other conversations that may be occurring. “But either way I thought it might be nice to share a meal, talk over the day, things like that.”  
  
“What sort of meal?” David asked with deep suspicion.  
  
“Well.” Trexel opened the pot with a grand gesture. It was empty. He stared into it in confusion for a few seconds, then looked at the lid for a few more, as if assuming the pot was malfunctioning. “Hmm.” He said at last.  
  
“I could fill it with clone slurry.” David offered.  
  
“That may not be wise David.” Trexel replied. “It’s a metal pot.”  
  
“Well, I can’t eat anything except clone slurry. So…”  
  
“Can’t you?” Trexel seemed genuinely surprised by this information.  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
“Have you tried?” David cast his eyes guiltily over to the box of chocolates that was still sitting on the console.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because I never leave this room.”  
  
“Well David, if you’re going to be difficult about it.”  
  
“We could try the citizen employee slurry?” David said uncertainly. He had a feeling Trexel was not going to leave until they ate something.  
  
“Oh very well.” Trexel thrust the pot in his direction. “Fill this then.”  
  
“You will need to unlock the pipe.” David reminded him. Trexel sighed like this was the greatest task ever performed by a Stella Firma employee, but did get up and unlock the employee tube. While David waited for the pot to fill, Trexel wandered back to the picnic cloth.  
  
“And now for the proper atmosphere.” David heard him mutter to himself.  
  
The moments after that statement were somewhat confusing, but as far as David could piece together later went something along these lines:

> 1) Trexel attempted to light the candles. This, David now understood after some research in the aftermath, was the primary function of candles. And in turn, that was why candles were banned by Stella Firma, as indeed was anything with which you could light one. David hadn’t asked what Trexel had used for the purpose. Even if he had the chance he didn’t think he wanted to know.
> 
> 2) Lighting the candles triggered the room’s frankly overzealous fire detection system. This was the point where the lighting had turned red and the sirens had begun.
> 
> 3) After the fire detection system, the fire suppression system had come online. Stella Firma, assuming that the occupants of design suites were likely to be clones and unimportant employees, had developed their fire systems with brutally effective simplicity. Therefore, their most pressing problem quickly became the abrupt removal of oxygen from the room.
> 
> 4) At this point, Trexel had somehow managed to open the main door. David wasn’t sure if this was a rare moment of genius improvisation brought on by situational stress, or if this simply wasn’t the first time Trexel had set the fire alarm off. Either way, Stella Firma’s design engineers had not been foolish enough to continue evacuating the air from a room when it was open to the rest of the complex, and the oxygen removal stopped. The force of the wind that rushed in from the corridor nearly knocked them both over.
> 
> 5) As soon as the pressure had begun to equalise Trexel forced himself out of the main door and into the corridor. He had looked back at David, his brow creased in confusion as if he couldn’t quite work out what had just happened. David, who wasn’t very sure himself, shrugged helplessly. Trexel muttered something about needing a drink, promised he would be back, and wandered off down the corridor. Maintenance clones came to fix the door. David sat at the console and watched them.

“Well, I won’t see him again until tomorrow at least.” He muttered to himself when everything was finally peace again. He was wrong, but for the moment blissfully ignorant of that fact.


	6. Stage Three: Theory

**_Excerpt from Stella Firma Clone Management Manual 7th Edition_ **

** Chapter 12: You and Your Bio-facsimile **

**12.1 Building a healthy bio-facsimile relationship**

**12.1.3 No thanks, much too slimy: Appropriate and inappropriate contact between your clone and you.**  
Descriptions of appropriate contact with your clone up to the maximum permissible levels and how to manage bio-facsimile expectations. What to do if you suspect inappropriate clone contact is occurring in your department. 

********

* * *

****

**_Excerpt from Wooing: A Historical and Cultural Perspective_ **

** Chapter 12: The first great romance **

**12.1 Making a move**

**12.1.3 Coming up for coffee**  
The next milestone in your great romance. How to start a conversation and keep it going, and how to be clear but not forceful with your intentions. Includes a discussion of the importance of coffee in historical mating rituals! 


	7. Stage Three: Practice

“Can I come in?” David looked up guiltily, shutting off I.M.O.G.E.N’s terminal as surreptitiously as possible. The room was dark, but he could make out Trexel’s distinctive silhouette in the doorway. It was swaying slightly.  
  
“It’s your office Trexel, you can come in whenever you like.”  
  
“No.” Trexel said very deliberately, leaning on the door frame. “Can. I. Come. In.”  
  
“Yes. You. Can.” David replied, completely bemused. He wasn’t particularly bothered by this, of the emotions Trexel could elicit in him, bemusement was one of the better ones.  
  
“Thank you.” Trexel entered, and the door slid closed. The room was now pitch black.  
  
“Would you like a drink?” Trexel asked.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Would you like a drink?”  
  
“Maybe some light first?”  
  
“Oh of course. Lights!” David blinked at the sudden onslaught of Stella Firma artificial daylight lighting. The lights were designed to stimulate maximum working efficiency and were a vicious blue-white, with a slight flicker that made a computer screen the only comfortable place to rest your eyes in the whole room.  
  
“Now, would you like a drink?” Trexel repeated for the third time, growing only slightly frustrated.  
  
“Why are you so determined to give me a drink?” David had begun to feel suspicious. “Is this another dare from the cosmic lounge? Am I going to wake up green again?”  
  
“No!” Trexel smiled at him, just about. “You invited me in. I thought it would be nice for us to have a drink together, get to know each other better. Maybe a nice coffee?”  
  
“I don’t drink coffee.”  
  
“Something else then.”  
  
“I only have clone slurry, we’ve been over this very recently.”  
  
“Ah! Clone slurry!” Trexel lurched towards the clone slurry pipes. David considered the relative merits of interfering now and waiting until later, and decided it was better to wait. This was a decision he would rapidly come to regret. Trexel had produced from somewhere two fine china tea cups, and was filling one of them from the clone slurry pipe. The delicate scroll-work and hand painted roses were doing very little to improve the lumpy grey contents.  
  
“Well, you can’t have it like this.” Declared Trexel when the cup was full. He looked around, frowned, and then turned back to David.  
  
“Back in one second, don’t go anywhere.”  
  
“Where would I go?” David asked the empty room. He assumed that was it for the night, that whatever had driven Trexel into the room had passed and he would go back to his usual obliviousness to David’s existence, outside the last twenty minutes of every working day. However, a few minutes later Trexel did return. He was carrying the teacups, one now contained a black substance that smelled bitter to David’s sensation starved nose. The other was still his clone slurry, but as Trexel began to hand it over he drew his hands back in surprise.  
  
“It’s hot.”  
  
“Yes.” Trexel was making an almost visible effort to be patient.  
  
“You heated up my clone slurry.”  
  
“Well, I couldn’t have you drinking it cold, could I.”  
  
“I usually drink it cold.”  
  
“Yes, but that’s not the point of…” Trexel stopped and gathered his thoughts. This was a laborious process. “Just enjoy your clone slurry David, and maybe we can get to know each other better, yes?”  
  
“You already know literally every single thing about me.” David replied. He was still eyeing the warm clone slurry with deep suspicion.  
  
“Well, I can just tell you about me then.” David rolled his eyes and finally took a sip of his slurry. He had been right. About everything, but primarily about the truly appalling idea that heating clone slurry was. Trexel’s hopeful eyes widened when he grimaced, shuddered, and spat the rest of the clone slurry back into the cup.  
  
“That is the worst thing I have ever tasted!”  
  
“You’ve only tasted one thing.”  
  
“Yes, and of the one thing I’ve ever tasted that is the worst version.”  
  
“So, no getting to know each other better then?”  
  
“I’m not even sure what you mean by that.” David grumbled. He put the cup down carefully on the console, eyeing it as if it might explode which did not seem entirely unlikely. To his surprise Trexel seemed to deflate.  
  
“Neither am I David. Neither am I.” He sat in his office chair. “I’m not sure the book knows what it’s doing.” He muttered.  
  
“What book?” Trexel started, as if he had forgotten David was there.  
  
“Oh nothing.” He levered himself out of the chair, made a movement to collect David’s cup and then checked himself, watching the bubbles rising slowly to the surface of the clone slurry like geyser mud. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
  
“You could still stay.” David said quickly, surprising himself. “We could get an early start on the day.” Trexel shook his head.  
  
“No, no. I’ll leave you alone.”  
  
“Ok. Could you leave the lights on though?” Trexel nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning?”  
  
“See you tomorrow.” Trexel was waiting for the door to open for him. “Goodnight.” He said, absentmindedly turning off the lights as he left.


	8. Stage Four: Theory

**_Excerpt from Stella Firma Clone Management Manual 7th Edition_ **

** Chapter 12: You and Your Bio-facsimile **

**12.1 Building a healthy bio-facsimile relationship**

**12.1.4 Turn out the lights when you leave: Avoiding clone attachment syndrome.**  
What is clone attachment syndrome and how best to avoid it reducing the productivity of your bio-facsimile. Appropriate disposal techniques for clones with attachment syndrome.

* * *

**_Excerpt from Wooing: A Historical and Cultural Perspective_ **

** Chapter 12: The first great romance **

**12.1 Making a move**

**12.1.4 The next day**  
The morning after the night before. How to have a comfortable conversation, why you shouldn’t avoid talking if you want to keep the fires burning and what history tells you not to do!


	9. Stage Four: Practice

“Good morning David!”

“Good afternoon Trexel.” David replied without skipping a beat.

“If you wish to be pedantic.” Trexel grumbled, finding his way into the room by means of discovering the door-frame, the wall and the chair in stumbling succession. He was wearing very dark glasses, and an expression that was strongly suggestive of a repeat visit to the cosmic lounge after last night’s drinks debacle.

David was equally tired, because he had spent much of the rest of the night getting the taste of hot clone slurry out of his mouth with the chocolates Trexel had left behind. He had discovered through a process of trial and error in the pitch dark that the chocolates tasted of different things, then had spent much of the rest of the time trying to find again the one with the centre that tasted of the smell that wafted through the air conditioning system. The box was now inevitably empty, and he had hidden it in one of the cupboards under the console hoping Trexel had forgotten about their existence.

“Shall we get on with the…” Trexel interrupted him before he could finish.

"I think we should talk about last night." He said portentously. David glanced nervously at the screen.

"Can we talk about it when we’ve finished?”

“No David. We shouldn’t avoid the issue. We should face it head on, and talk about last night.”

“I’m not avoiding the issue. I don’t even know what the ‘issue’ is. But I am aware of this very big, very scary countdown that means we really do need to look at the brief!”

“Oh very well.” Trexel was grumbling, but David was too surprised to notice.

“Really?”

“If it will make you happy David. I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s… a bit weird. But, thanks.”

“Let’s look at this brief then.” And for the next twenty minutes, give or take the time it took to convince Trexel that hippopotami were sufficiently armed and did not require augmentation, they were relatively productive. As David hit send he felt the usual wash of relief, turned a smile on Trexel, and to his horror found him looking back at him with the same serious expression he had worn half an hour ago.

“Really?”

“Yes David. We can’t run away from this, unless we want it to poison the roots of our whole relationship.”

“Look, as long as you promise to never bring me clone slurry again, I think our relationship, and me in general, can remain completely unpoisoned.”

“Well, that’s good.” Trexel looked even more disconcerted than he had when he first arrived. David wondered if he was more drunk than usual.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” David prompted, against his better judgement. He wanted this to be over, praise the board but he wanted this to be over. But, on the other hand, he didn’t want Trexel to leave unsatisfied, because that nearly always lead to bad things. That was the excuse he was giving himself, anyway.

“If I’m honest David, I was rather hoping you would lead. Give you some of that important leadership experience you’ll need in your future career.”

“I’m a clone. I don’t have a future career. I have the same career, forever, until someone decides my component atoms need a new career as someone else.”  
“That’s a very morbid way of looking at it.”

“Well, you’d be morbid too if you were facing recycling every other week.”

“Would I though?”  
“You may have a point there.” David conceded. “Look, whatever it is you’re concerned we haven’t talked about, considering that neither of us know what it is, can we just consider it talked about and leave it at that?” Trexel looked troubled.

“That’s pretty much the opposite of what the book says.” David sighed in exasperation.

“What book? You keep saying things like that and I don’t know what you’re talking about!” For a second Trexel looked trapped, but then his eyes widened and a grin formed on his face.

“I know what to do!” He said triumphantly. “We just go on to the next stage!”

“What next stage?” But Trexel was already leaving the room.

“The next stage David. Already. I’m so good at this.” Trexel glanced over his shoulder, still grinning the grin of the truly cracked. “I’ll be back in a minute, just wait here.”


	10. Stage Five: Theory

**_Excerpt from Stella Firma Clone Management Manual 7th Edition_ **

** Chapter 12: You and Your Bio-facsimile **

**12.1 Building a healthy bio-facsimile relationship**

**12.1.5 It’s not us it’s you, but not for much longer: Conversations around recycling.**  
Recycling your clone with minimal impact to working practices and departmental efficiency. How to broach recycling with your clone and minimise adverse reactions. Also lists appropriate strategies for preparing a bio-facsimile for recycling.

* * *

**_Excerpt from Wooing: A Historical and Cultural Perspective_ **

** Chapter 12: The first great romance **

**12.1 Making a move**

**12.1.5 The language of love is flowers**  
The next level. Keeping the romance alive. The importance of flowers in great romances and how to use them effectively. Sometimes you need more than just a scatter of rose petals!


	11. Stage Five: Practice

“Why are you doing this?”  
  
“Doing what?” Trexel was decorating the room with roses. David, watching with mounting horror and waiting for the inevitable arrival of security, detainment of Trexel for his own protection and recycling of himself, took a deep breath and reminded himself that his survival prospects were improved by remaining calm.  
  
“The flowers.” In a way David was quietly fascinated by the flowers. He’d learnt about them on I.M.O.G.E.N, after that disaster with the carnivorous plants on the planet they had designed for the vespiform collective he’d made a point of learning about every kind of foliage that Trexel may decide to decorate with, but he’d never seen any of it in real life. Stella Firma were not minded to provide pot plants in their office spaces, unless it was to conceal a listening device in the ‘confidential’ client meeting pods.  
  
“Don’t you like them?” Trexel sounded genuinely hurt. But then there were very few emotions Trexel didn’t feel genuinely, if not also expansively and occasionally damply.  
  
“They’re… fine.” David tried, feeling out the ground that might win him an explanation without a temper tantrum.  
  
“Good.” Apparently satisfied Trexel went back to his flower arranging, wedging a bunch behind the slurry pipes.  
  
“But I’m not sure why they’re here. In fact, there’s a lot of things recently I’ve not been sure about.”  
  
“Is anyone ever really sure about anything?” Trexel asked airily.  
  
“No, I suppose not.” ‘Not around you’ David added mentally. “But I’ve not been sure more often lately.”  
  
“Well, that’s on you David.” Trexel seemed to stop and think about this as soon as he had said it, and his demeanour suddenly changed. He came closer, leaning into David who leant away without thinking about it.  
  
“Are you ok?” He asked instead, his voice making a valiant attempt at softening.  
  
“More worried now, if I’m honest.” Trexel leaned away, his voice returning to normal.  
  
“Look David, I don’t know what it is that you want.”  
  
“Neither do I. What is it that you want me to want?”  
  
“That’s not the…” Trexel broke off and ran a hand through his hair. This took several minutes. “I don’t know what else you want, I’ve done everything the book said.”  
  
“What book?” David asked cautiously. He was beginning to form horrible suspicions about this book. Unexpectedly, Trexel produced a book he had improbably concealed on his person and threw it on the floor between them with an angry flourish.  
  
“This book!” David examined it where it lay. It looked as if something furry and violently pink had been skinned to provide its cover. David had not yet come across any fauna in the Stella Firma database that fitted that description, but he couldn’t rule out such a thing existing. The title was embossed in gold, and although it was against his better judgement, David leant closer to read it and hoped the book didn’t bite.  
  
“Wooing.” He said, uncertain of the word. Without thinking about it, he asked “I.M.O.G.E.N, what’s wooing?”  
  
“Wooing is the act of attracting a partner for romantic liaisons. Wooing is forbidden for all bio-facsimiles. Stella Firma employees may only woo with express permission from the relationships subcommittee. Unauthorised wooing detected. Security alerted.”  
  
“No wooing!” David said quickly “There’s no wooing here!”  
  
“That’s very hurtful.” Trexel grumbled. David turned on him.  
  
“Did you not hear what it said? Forbidden Trexel! Forbidden as in recycling! Why did you think this was a good idea?” Trexel huffed as David picked up the book, holding it by the corners as if he was afraid it might infect him, and shoved it at him.  
  
“If you’re going to be like that about it.” He took the book and put it away.  
  
“Why are you trying to woo me anyway?” Trexel, for possibly the first time in his existence, looked uncomfortable.  
  
“It seemed like a good idea.”  
  
“Really?” David couldn’t help the complete bafflement in his tone.  
  
“Yes.” Trexel was drawing himself up, beginning to get defensive, and David tried to put a stop to it as quickly as possible.  
  
“That seems, unusual.”  
  
“Well David, I am a very unusual person.” Trexel said proudly. His tone dropped and he became suddenly, actually sincere. David wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or frightened. “And you are a very unusual clone.”  
  
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” David said, still unsettled. Trexel’s face fell, and he looked so genuinely miserable that David felt a pang of conscience.  
  
“Look. Just, no more wooing, ok?”  
  
“If you insist.” Trexel sniffed. “But you will miss out on my grand finale.”  
  
“I’m sure I’ll cope.”  
  
“There would have been dancing."  
  
“I think I’ll live without.”  
  
“Candlelight.”  
  
“We’ve established that’s a bad idea.”  
  
“Chocolates.” David looked a little guiltily at the cupboard where he had concealed the empty box of chocolates.  
  
“I do quite like chocolates.”  
  
“Fireworks.”  
  
“Definitely not.” At that Trexel offered him a smile that could, on a good day with a following wind, have been described as normal.  
  
“Just telling you what you’re missing out on.” David offered him a small smile in return.  
  
“I think you might be wasting it on me.”  
  
“Not one for wooing then David?”  
  
“Apparently not.” Trexel grinned, and David felt the bounce of his irrepressible self confidence before he opened his mouth.  
  
“I’ll just have to try something else then.”  
  
“Or nothing.” David said quickly. “You could try nothing.”  
  
“Is that what you would prefer?” Trexel seemed to be trying these words out for the first time. Maybe the horrifying book had done some good after all.  
  
“Could you just be normal? Start again, being normal?”  
  
“What’s normal?”  
  
“How would I know?” Trexel gave a bark of startled laughter.  
  
“Very good point David.” He thought for a moment, then stuck out his hand. David, bemused, took it.  
  
“Hello, I’m Trexel Geistman.” They shook hands.  
  
“David 7.” David said slowly, still not quite sure where this was leading.  
  
“Can I get you a drink?” David thought about this, giving the question more consideration than it probably deserved. Or on the other hand, maybe just the right amount.  
  
“Clone slurry. Cold.” He clarified, not wanting a repeat of that particular incident. Trexel grinned at him and then, for probably the first time in Stella Firma history, got his clone a drink.


End file.
